Two Days
by Mellifluous Violet
Summary: "And leave Hermione? Are you mad? We wouldn't last two days without her!" Harry and Ron decide against their better judgment to sneak away in the night without Hermione. Non-canon DH, with eventual R/Hr.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is inspired by the movie scene in Deathly Hallows Part 1 where Harry challenges Ron to leave with him. I'm planning on this being multi-chapter, so please follow along if you'd like to see it progress! It's going to have a fair bit of Romione, but more so focusing on the overwhelming amount of pressure the Trio has thrust upon them in the beginning of DH._

* * *

It was far, far too quiet. Absent were the sounds of gentle snores emulating from a few feet away, no creaking door hinges, no rustle of sheets. Harry tended to be a fitful sleeper, poor bloke. Ron knew this full well after sharing sleeping quarters with him for six years.

He shifted his hips to turn over and glanced across the room, the silvery light evidencing that his suspicions were correct. He was alone in his childhood bedroom. _"Might just be using the loo_ ," he thought warily, yet somehow knew that was not the case. Ron groaned and ran a hand down his face, wondering what bloody time it was. Pulling his long legs out from the tangle of sheets, he snatched his wand, unsure if he even had enough time to catch the wizard or if he was already long gone.

The Burrow was filled to the brim tonight, with every bed, sofa, and alternative arrangement currently utilized for guests of the Weasleys. Ron bounded down the stairs as quietly as his feet would allow. As he padded swiftly past his sister's room, he involuntarily held his breath. The all-too-familiar flip of his stomach reminded him that Hermione was in there with her and his soon-to-be sister in law, hopefully fast asleep. He could only imagine the scene that would unfold if their roles were reversed.

 _It had been so, so good to see her again_. He'd been downright giddy when she showed up at the Burrow just yesterday, unable to stop the grin that fought its way on his face when she rushed towards him and wrapped those delicate arms around his neck. He swore she could have probably felt his heart hammering in his chest against her.

The letters back and forth all summer had been purposefully cryptic, as paranoia from his mum and dad grew with each passing day. No one in the Order had any inkling of trust that letters weren't being intercepted. Anything Hermione shared with him could be used against her, and same with him. After all that had happened following the end of sixth year, he just needed to know she was all right.

He thought back to her arrival as he continued through the dark kitchen, pausing to shove his feet into worn trainers. Her skin wasn't as tanned as he expected. Upon each reunion following the summer, she normally donned a bit more color and a smattering of light freckles across the bridge of that perfect nose from summer hols with her parents. This time she looked thinner and paler. Well…they all did, he supposed. There had been a flurry of activity all around them as his parents, siblings, and Order members who had arrived earlier in the day to sort out the plan to bring Harry from the Dursley's had welcomed the witch. She seemed a bit off, he thought, her smile not reaching her eyes. Her tone was controlled, polite. Wanting desperately to just be alone with her, Ron hoisted up her bag (which was rather small, he thought to himself) and slung it over his shoulder, catching her gaze and motioning with his eyes to follow him up the winding stairs. There she had confided in him the measures she had taken to save her parents, wringing her hands as she described each step. He'd never been so damned proud of her in his life. He even told her so, in a deeper voice than he intended. He had nearly fainted when she rose up on her feet, grasping his forearms to steady herself and pecked him lightly on the cheek.

Thoughts of her evaporated as soon as Ron saw a dark figure from the window, making his way steadily out towards the nearby field. He didn't need to wonder if it was really Harry – the wards were strong enough that not even the bloody Minister of Magic could break through.

The wind whipped through Ron's hair as he stepped out into the night, glad that he'd thrown on a long-sleeved shirt despite the August warmth. Closing the door behind him, he hurried after the retreating figure. Sure enough, he was fully dressed and had his rucksack with him, the lunatic.

Suddenly Ron was filled with righteous indignation. _How dare he leave, when they had just risked their lives – lost Moody's life – and just sneak away in the night as if nothing had happened?_

"Going somewhere?" he called out, stopping Harry in his tracks. Pausing, Harry turned around met his gaze. Even in the dark, he could sense his stubbornness. It rolled off of him like waves.

The look on Harry's face provided the grating confirmation that he was once again playing the bloody hero as the moonlight glinted off his glasses. "Nobody else is going to die."

Ron could have laughed in exasperation. _No one else? Are you really that daft, mate?_

"Not for me."

As Harry turned again, the words tumbled from Ron's mouth. "For you?"

Harry kept walking. His stupid rucksack seemed to mock Ron, bouncing lightly off his shoulders as the distance grew between the two men. While he knew it was harsh, he released the irritated question that was more of a statement than anything. "You think Mad-Eye died for you?"

Harry continued his steady pace away from the Burrow. Ron resisted the urge to use his wand. He called louder, risking waking someone in the nearby house. "D'you think George took that curse for you?"

Harry reluctantly paused again, turning his head quickly as the rest of his body followed. For once he let his steely gaze falter.

"You may be the chosen one, mate," Ron said evenly, "but this is a whole lot bigger than that." They met eyes, sizing each other up. "It's always been bigger than that."

Crickets chirped loudly around them, filling the silence as both boys looked at one another in their unanticipated standoff.

Green eyes flashed in tandem with a clenched jaw. Ron held is breath, unsure of what Harry might say. He uttered it so quickly he had to play his words over again in his head.

"Come with me!"

Ron didn't even hesitate to question his friend's sanity. "And leave Hermione? Are you _mad_?" He saw Harry's eyes flash to the ground, breaking their intense contact. "We wouldn't last _two days_ without her."

It was a statement. A fact. Doing this without Hermione was suicide. Harry had to know that.

A sound in the distance – likely a creature or garden gnome wandering nearby, snapped a twig. Ron felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. In annoyance or alarm, he wasn't sure. He looked behind him instinctually. Did their voices rouse her from her sleep?

"Don't…tell her I said that," he responded sheepishly. Harry shook his head curtly, brow furrowed. He was really serious. Had he forgotten how necessary Hermione had been with every single misadventure they had ever had? How lost they would be without her intellect, bravery, and quick thinking? The pressure of everything was clearly messing with his head.

"Besides, you've still got the trace on you... we've still got the wedding-"

"I don't _care_ about a wedding," Harry interrupted breathlessly, "I'm sorry, no matter whose it is. I have to start finding these horcruxes. They're our only chance to beat him, and the longer we stay here the stronger he gets."

 _He was right. But... Hermione. Leaving her was inherently wrong._ He had assumed at some point they would need to keep secrets and plans from his family, but never once considered leaving the witch out.

"Tonight is not the night, mate," Ron replied firmly, stepping towards him. "We'll only be doing him a favor. They locked eyes again. Harry's eyes shifted in the darkness, but his body remained fixed.

"The Order will protect them," Harry said softy. Those words washed over Ron like a wave as Harry continued, "they're better off here than with us, where they're safe. We can just go now without….without putting them in even more danger."

 _More danger. She was already in enough danger, with a damn x on her back being muggle born AND friends with Harry Potter._

Harry stepped closer, dropping his voice to a terse whisper. "They'll have each other. But I'm going, with or without you."

Ron knew he was mainly referring to Ginny with his earlier statement, but wasn't omitting their other best friend. They both kew Hermione never would allow him to stalk off into the night.

 _She probably_ is _safer here, with Kingsley and Remus and his parents and everyone else. What could he and Harry offer her? The promise of uncertainty? If something happened to her, if they were caught…_

Ron gulped. Harry was clearly itching to go, his brow furrowing once gain.

"You coming or what?"

"Shut it, Harry. Just give me a mo'…" he snapped, silently weighing how horrified his parents, siblings, and – most importantly – the girl he loved and the one person who had been an integral part of this entire thing so far would be when they woke to find both of them missing.

At last he spoke, revealing his decision with a question. "Can I at least leave a note?" Harry huffed at his words and ran a hand through his unruly hair, clearly frustrated that he had been stalled so long already. Ron didn't wait for him to respond as he quickly ran into the house, rushing to grab the first scrap of parchment he could find and scribble out a short message. He felt his heart clench as he considered what they were about to do, and how she would feel in the morning. _When would he see her again?_ The very thought was unbearable. He focused on penning his message in messy scrawl before leaving it on the kitchen table, forcing himself to stop thinking about the witch asleep on the next floor.

Harry was impatiently waiting for him just outside the yard, but clapped Ron gently on the back once he joined him with nothing but the clothes on his back and wand in his pocket. The realization of that fact was his first sign that this was a very bad idea indeed.

* * *

They all awoke to Molly's shriek, nearly shrill enough to rattle the windows of her humble home. Hermione leapt up from the flimsy camp bed, beating Ginny down the stairs by a second to find Mrs. Weasley positively shaking, her face reddening.

Absolute chaos ensued as the room filled with shocked faces and confused murmurs of " _both of them, gone, left in the night? Are you certain? Have you checked upstairs?"_ Ginny blanched. Molly wailed. In the mayhem, Hermione stood shell-shocked by the staircase.

 _No no no no no. They wouldn't. They wouldn't leave her. They were in this together, and had been from the very start._ She had everything they needed upstairs in her beaded bag. The idea of returning to Hogwarts had been dismissed long ago – she knew there was no way the three of them were going back in September. They just needed to wait until Harry turned seventeen. They were so close.

Panic bubbled up in her as Fred bounded back down the stairs, confirming that the boys were truly gone. She felt bile rise in her throat at the idea that she had been left behind, with literally no idea where they could possibly be. Never in her life had Hermione felt so alone. She backed up to the wall, needing the pressure to keep her upright.

"H-he l-l-l-left this," Molly sputtered, holding out the note.

"What's it say?" Ginny demanded, reaching for it and snatching it from her mother's trembling hand. Her eyes scanned the page rapidly before she handed it confidently to Hermione, her jaw set.

The words swam before her eyes and she took a shaky breath before forcing herself to focus. It was heartbreakingly short.

 _Please don't be angry. I couldn't live with myself if we put you in more danger. Trust the Order. Take care of yourself. They need your brilliant mind just as much as we do._

 _Love,_ _Ron_

She read it over four times. Each word caused her heart to constrict so tightly she thought she felt like she was being choked. _This can't be happening._

Someone rounded on her. Pressure on her arms, a light shake. She blinked into Bill's concerned eyes, heard him ask a third time if she knew where they went. Heads turned awaiting a response, hope etched on their faces as she tried to speak. But only one coherent thought surfaced: was that this must be a very, very bad dream.

* * *

 _A/N: Let me know what you think and any ideas for the next chapter. I think I know where I'm taking this but am open to feedback. xx MV_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you Gja03 and Invader Johnny for your reviews! Love hearing your thoughts. I'm hoping to take this to four, possibly five chapters.

* * *

His mind wandered to visions of plump sausage and crackling bacon, simmering in hot grease. Crispy fried potatoes piled high next to the fluffy mountain of scrambled eggs. Dollops of raspberry jam smoothed over warm, buttery toast. _Merlin_ , _he was hungry. When had he eaten last?_ Yesterday's lunch? He'd been far too nervous before the trip over to Little Whinging to put food in his stomach. It twisted in protest.

"What snacks have you got in there, mate?" Ron inquired, staring at Harry's rucksack. It wasn't large, but a few sandwiches could have easily be stowed away. Perhaps some ham pies, or even a block of cheese and stale dinner rolls his mother usually kept in stock. Surely at the very least, an apple or two. His stomach growled despairingly as Harry shook his head and sighed loudly.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks, causing the other wizard to reluctantly halt in response. "Nothing. You've got bloody _nothing_ to eat? What the hell are we supposed to do?" While he didn't expect Harry to have a feast packed away, he certainly thought he'd have had the sense to bring some morsel of food for the indefinite journey ahead.

"Look, it was hard enough to just pack up my clothes without anyone suspecting I was leaving. Can you imagine what your mum would have thought if she saw me –"

"Sod off," Ron snapped, fully aware that he was taking his frustration and discomfort out on Harry and not really caring if it was unfair. He walked past him, cursing under his breath.

"I've, um, got some muggle money in here somewhere," he heard him say distractedly, digging through his bag. "Ten pounds, and a few coins at the bottom." Before Ron could angrily retort that he had no earthly clue what that translated to in knuts and sickles, Harry continued. "Enough for about two meals, I think. We could find a store or café some place that isn't crowded, and maybe-"

"And maybe _what,_ exactly?" Ron interrupted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Maybe ask politely if they can please kindly allow us to eat without paying so we don't starve the next day, then figure it out from there? Or maybe ask if they sell tombstones with their soup of the day like some kind of package deal?"

"Quit being so dramatic," Harry spat, having clearly grown exasperated with his companion. "I'm hungry too. We'll figure something out. You didn't sign up for a holiday."

Ron was too annoyed and famished to bother responding. They had been steadily meandering through the crooked outskirts of the forest through the night and into the early morning hours. Any time they came close to a village or road, Harry had thrown the invisibility cloak over his body as an added measure despite the cover of darkness. Now that the sun had risen, Ron was seriously rethinking what they had done. They were hours away by foot with literally no plan. Nothing at all. He felt exposed and vulnerable. And hungry.

They walked along in silence, irritation at one another slowly ebbing with each passing minute. While he couldn't see him, Ron assumed Harry was deep in his own surly thoughts. While his empty stomach grumbled hard for attention, thoughts of Hermione soon won over despite his best efforts to avoid thinking of her. He desperately hoped his scribbled message had offered some sort of solace. Regret for not leaving something for his parents sent a pang of guilt through him, but he assumed the one penned for her sufficed for all of them. The message had been as clear as it needed to be – they were leaving, and the rest of them were meant to stay.

As the scorching late July sun continued to rise higher in the sky, he thought of the impending wedding – the first of all his siblings. An occasion his mum had been delightfully engaged in amid all of the tension, the event that was supposed to be full of merriment despite the ominous foreboding over all of their lives. A reason to feel happy, even just days after Moody was killed. _Would Bill and Fleur ever forgive him for his absence?_ His mum had loads of tasks laid out for all of them to complete in preparation for the festivities in two days, and the Delacours were meant to arrive that morning. He officially felt like the lousiest son alive as he kicked a stone as hard as he could.

 _And would Hermione ever forgive him? Could she understand why this was too great a risk? H_ is father had ties to the ministry, his magical heritage was without question on both sides. Harry had no choice but to go underground. It wasn't fair to have him do this alone, but why put Hermione's life in even more peril? _No, she was much better off where she was._

"Well, d'you reckon we should see what might be down there?" Harry finally asked, breaking his reverie as one floating arm was revealed from beneath the cloak. They had crested a hill on the edge of the mossy wood. Sure enough, a few distant steeples loomed over a small smattering of buildings in the next valley. Ron grunted in reply, trudging ahead.

* * *

She was positively livid. White hot anger burned blindingly as she crumpled the message in her fist. Salty tears made tracks down her cheeks and the horrid lump in her throat refused to go away.

Betrayal. That's all she felt. _How could they? Had it been a cruel joke, a nefarious set-up staged to look like they abandoned her?_

Once the debilitating shock had worn off enough for the Weasleys to speculate amongst themselves, Arthur called an emergency Order meeting. Molly put everyone to work before the others could arrive, assigning Hermione, Ginny, and George to keep a look out for Madame and Monsieur Delacour and their daughter Gabrielle. Fred was ordered back to the couch as Molly changed the dressing on his ear, focusing on the injured son before her but clearly a nervous wreck over her missing one.

"Take them 'round the garden when they arrive," she called as the two teenage girls left the kitchen. Ginny clearly empathized with her friend as she ushered them up to her youngest brother's bedroom.

As soon as they stepped into the cramped space, Hermione let out a noise halfway between a scream and a groan. Pulling at her hair, she paced the small room between the two unmade beds as Ginny crossed her arms and leaned against the door.

"You really have no idea where they went, do you?"

Hermione hated the calm in her voice. Ginny might only be a year younger, but had been so removed from all that the trio had uncovered over the years. She had every right to be frustrated with Harry for keeping her in the dark, but Hermione could not help but feel they were not on level ground. _What Ron and Harry did to her was far, far worse._

She met Ginny's fierce gaze, taking in the young girl who had grown up so much in the last year. Taking her anger out on her would be futile.

"I have no words," Hermione managed to utter, shaking her head furiously as she continued to pace. It was all too tempting to kick over the flimsy camp bed that had been abandoned when she trusted that they would wait for her before taking any action. "If I had _any_ idea, any _at all_ , I would have hexed them both into next year."

A heavy silence fell between them. The brunette witch continued to shake her head in fuming disbelief, contemplating what she could possibly do.

"Can't you see? It's the same rationale he gave me – that You-Know-Who would use me to get to him."

Hermione took a measured breath, feeling her heart twist tightly. "Gin, with all due respect to your brother, he is not-"

"I'm not comparing Ron to Harry," the redhead countered, reaching out to take the balled up parchment from the witch's hand. "I'm just pointing that he clearly thinks you're safer in the dark." She smoothed out the offensive note.

"But I'm _not_ in the dark!" she wailed, a hint of hysteria evident in her voice.

 _Hold it together, Hermione._

She tried again, pausing before explaining."I've been there with them, right in the thick of things," she whispered, bringing her hands up to wipe away the fresh tears leaking from her eyes. "I….I thought they would want me. That I could help them."

A sympathetic look crossed Ginny's face and she stepped closer, halting the brunette's pacing. "Hey," she began, forcing the girl to look at her. "They're idiots. They do need you. Frankly, I think they want both of us there. They're just…I dunno, playing the hero. Protecting us damsels from the battle."

Hermione bit back her rebuttal in order to allow the girl to finish, but refused to acknowledge the possibility that either of her best friends considered her as someone who needed to wait on the sidelines for them to do the real work. Just as she was about to reply, she noticed the faint smirk etched on Ginny's face.

"Trust me, I'm in love with the Chosen One."

Hermione momentarily forgot her plight, looking right into Ginny's eyes in shock. "Love," she said flatly. "Gin, did you just-"

"You heard correctly," she said matter-of-factly, letting out a deep breath. "And he loves me too. I know it. I'm not happy about what he's done, but there's nothing I can do now. I knew he'd take off and leave me here."

Hermione couldn't help but smile weakly at the revelation, stated so confidently. She recalled the shy, younger version of the woman who stood before her, pining after the raven-haired boy who was best friends with her older brother. The same boy who had rescued her from the villain in the dungeon five years ago, who now not only threatened their lives, but the entire British wizarding world.

"He said he loved you," Ginny said quietly. She pointed to the four letter word before his name, written in that loopy scrawl. But Hermione shook her head adamantly, curls bouncing in defiance.

"Stop it, Gin. It's not the same thing," she snapped defensively. For Merlin's sake, she was infuriated with him. The handsome, kind, stubborn, comforting man she wished more than anything was standing before her. Just yesterday she had stood in this very spot, summoning all the bravery in her bones to kiss him on the cheek after confiding in him without fear of judgment. And now look what had happened.

She was clearly not needed.

The redhead exhaled sharply, grasping her friend's shoulders. "As I said earlier, _they are idiots_ ," she annunciated. "Especially Ron. But Hermione, if you haven't realized by now that he fancies you, you're just as daft."

The words echoed in her ears, making her feel dizzy. But neither had a chance to speak as the door burst open and Bill strode in, requesting that both girls come entertain his bride's family while they continued the meeting.

"Be right down," Ginny promised. As soon as the door clicked behind her eldest brother, she turned again to the distraught witch in front of her. "Give it two days. They won't survive without you."


End file.
